


Creak

by Alcor_the_Dreambender



Series: TUA AU [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Choking, Drug Use, Ghost Ben, Kinky Shit, M/M, Underage Sex, alcohol use, bentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 10:19:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18444554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alcor_the_Dreambender/pseuds/Alcor_the_Dreambender
Summary: you get no info this is a complete surprise





	Creak

The bed creaks as they both fall into it, Klaus shoved beneath the stranger - he didn’t even get the man’s name. He won’t remember in the morning anyway.   
A hand wraps around his neck, pressing the sides and cutting off his blood for a second or two, before letting up. Then pushing down again. A broken, shaky moan falls against the pillow, his eyes falling shut as his new and very exciting (he convinced Allison to help him sneak them home) leather pants are tugged down, tossed away,   
He’s tugged up onto his knees, gasping as a pair of lips pressed into his. He drools, moaning and grabbing at the other man’s arms to tug him closer.   
“More, mm-“ He twists and topples to the duvet, tugging his legs and spreading them as wide as he could.   
Klaus holds his arms up, silently telling the stranger to undress him. The second his clothes hit the floor, he grabs the black jeans, tugging the button undone and unzipping them.   
His eyes keep slipping shut, but every inch of his flesh is on fire. He jolts when nails drag down his chest, arching up and tossing his head back. He can’t even hear himself anymore, nothing but his blood pounding in his ears and he tugs at the waistband of the grey boxers that scratch at his fingertips.   
Lips find his ear, a low growl making his entire body move, hips pushing up to meet anything he can -   
Hands that could easily break him shove him down again, and he shivers.   
“You’re so vocal, little boy. Ain’t you so desperate.”   
Yes, he nods, tangling his hands in blond curls, and he tugs. Teeth dig into his throat, and he twitches, grabbing one of the man’s hands. He’s huge, a large man that could and probably would shatter him and that’s what he wants. That mere thought makes him burn, and god.   
Please.   
Three fingers push into his mouth, and he licks, sucks, does everything he practiced doing with a banana, and that gruff voice is in his ear again.   
Calling him a slut, and he’s moaning, nodding and whining when those fingers leave his lips. He looks like one of those girls he sees sometimes in alleyways, he knows he does. Those girls are so sweet and he loves their clothes and he wishes he could get away with wearing dresses like them.   
He flails when a digit suddenly pushes into him, breath hitching and vision blurring because it burns and he’s done it before so many times why does it feel so different.   
So good.   
The man’s fingers are thicker and longer than his are, and just by the sight of his cock, he won’t be walking right tomorrow and it thrills him.   
Something sends him reeling, a jolt of white hot pleasure shoving through him, and he babbles, begging for more, because god he can’t get enough and he finally feels like nothing's going to scare him and wake him up and he can’t get over how fucking good it feels.   
“You’re so tight, slut, you sure you’ve done this before?”   
He nodded, panting, clawing at the man’s broad shoulders, and he’s empty.   
He digs his nails in, practically screaming for more. More, don’t stop, please.   
The jeans bite his thighs and its so good and he’s so full even when he’s pulling out, pushing in and his eyes are wet and he’s drooling he can tell, he can feel it. He won’t remember this but god he’ll feel it. So good, so much, and he’s cumming in no time at all, tightening around the man’s cock inside him and he’s growling in his ear and it’s making his eyes roll back and he fucking loves it.   
He’s vibrating, overstimulated, whimpering when hot, wet floods him and he’s empty again, cum trickling from his abused hole, and he’s exhausted and he wants more. More, more, until he can’t move.   
But he can’t voice it, no, because a finger is slipping into his mouth again. He sucks, eyes falling shut, lips puckered, and the gruff voice is whispering now, sweet words that don’t quite make it into his fuzzy head and the man moves the blanket over them. Curling around him, one arm under him and he other petting his dark curls.   
It’s not a scary darkness when he curls up and sucks absently on the finger in his mouth. 

The mansion is quiet, the sun sneaking through the curtains, and he stands up, slowly, wincing at the jolt of (good, so so good it’s burning him up) pain in his ass. The older guy is still out cold. He doesn’t know if he should tell him to fuck off or bring him to breakfast just to bring more attention.   
To make someone notice him.   
A warm arm wraps around his waist, tugging him back to the safety net he’s built for himself, and he sighs, resting the back of his head on the stranger’s chest.   
“I should go.” It’s muttered into his hair, and he loves the vibration against his back.   
“Leave me something t’member you.”   
The man snorts, actually laughs at him, and the rush of pure excitement that floods his lithe frame, and he beams, turning and shoving his face against his warm chest.


End file.
